You asked me, what three books would I want if I was stuck on an island?
I was not at all excited to answer you. But I will play along, because if nothing else, growing up in the midwest produces people who are eager to please.
I’d get two books about getting off islands and a third one on painless ways to die.
Then you continued. What three songs would I want, if I was stuck on an island. (And if you don’t mind, why are you so worried about being stuck on an island? I mean, how often does that happen?) But again, I will answer in hopes that this is the last question…here’s my answer: I’d bring one song. Some sort of orchestration mixed with the sounds of whales singing. That way when I listen to it I would be reminded about how beautiful it is to be in the ocean. How majestic are its mysteries and wonderous its creatures. And soon I would think living on the island was the best possible place to live.
And now I ask you, dear interrogator, why ask which three songs I would want? I think you’d learn a lot more about me by asking what three songs I WOULDN’T want. Which three songs would I exclude. What three songs would so demoralize and depress me that I dare not travel with them for fear I may end-up stuck with my iPod on an isolated island.
Then the trivial nature of these inquirers is made clear. With the ability to ban only three songs from being played, well, that leaves dozens upon hundreds of other Christmas Carols, any one of which would cause me to jump into the water from whatever height was available and swim until the sharks got me. Or until I came to another island with no music playing.